


Giving Up

by TVgirll1971



Category: Whiskey Cavalier (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TVgirll1971/pseuds/TVgirll1971
Summary: After another tragic failure, Will gives up and leaves the team. However, Frankie won't let him quit that easily.
Relationships: Will Chase/Frankie Trowbridge
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Giving Up

**Author's Note:**

> Set near the middle of Season 2
> 
> In my fic "Through the Years" I used Huntress87's explanation of how Will & Frankie got together in "What Comes After" since I really had no idea and I liked hers a lot. (I did give her credit in my end notes there). However, I've finally come up with an alternative and this is it. This is my original idea--yet still inspired by What Comes After.

Camille Sohn, a computer whiz fresh out of Quantico, was assigned to the team while Standish recovered from being stabbed by Ollerman. Not only was the Asian-American Sohn a computer expert, she received top marks in marksmanship, evasive driving, and hand to hand combat. Plus, according to her instructors, she was also a natural in the field. Unfortunately, she had one flaw—she adhered to the rules a little too much. Will understood—he tended to follow protocol himself. Frankie, however, did *not* understand and bristled at being challenged by someone “who’s been an agent for two minutes.” Normally, a new agent would shrink after a reprimand. Not Sohn—she did the unthinkable—she argued with Frankie and told her that someone who doesn’t respect the rules has no business being a team leader. Before an irate Frankie had a chance to lay into Sohn, Will told her to calm down and escorted the younger agent to the pool room.

“I’m sorry.” Camille said, shaking out of Will’s grasp as they entered the room. “But that woman…”

“That *woman*” Will lectured “has the highest kill and capture rate of anyone in the CIA. She has years of experience in the field and was hand-picked by the Director of the CIA to lead this team with me. The last person who should be questioning her methods is you.”

Camille gaped. “You’re saying rules and procedures don’t matter?” 

“Of course, they matter. But a good agent knows how and when to improvise. A good agent needs to be able to keep an open mind, adapt and think outside the box.”

“How do you know when it’s alright to bend the rules?”

Will gave a slight shrug. “Judgement and experience. You know the rules and procedures. But out in the field, that doesn’t always help. Now, Frankie has years of experience out in the field. She’s one of best. So instead of arguing over procedure, why don’t you use her experience and learn from it?”

Camille looked down for a moment and said “Alright.”

Camille took Will’s words to heart and it didn’t take her long to realize why Frankie was considered one of the best. After that first mission, Camille gained a whole new respect for Frankie and even learned to adapt a little herself. After working with the team for a few weeks, she was transferred out when Standish got the go-ahead to return to duty. However, Camille continued to assist the team when they needed additional computer support. Unbeknownst to everyone, Camille took things further and investigated the Trust on her own time. Finally, one day, she got a lead and texted Will asking to meet the team at the Dead Drop.

Tragically, Camille never made it to the meeting and was soon found dead on the street with a bullet in her head.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Frankie was worried about Will. In the days following Camille’s death, he was laser-focused on one thing—finding her killer. Of course, so was the rest of the team, but Will’s demeanor reminded her too much of how he was after Emma died. Unfortunately, unlike Emma, there were no leads on who killed Camille. The agent’s laptop was gone so Standish had no clue what she’d found or even what she’d been working on. Frankie could tell the lack of success was getting to Will. She could see it in his face—he was angry. After another hunch led to another dead end, Will got fed up. “Damn it!” he yelled as he turned and stormed right up to his office.

Frankie quickly followed. “Will?”” she said when she found him pacing furiously.

Will stopped pacing and shook his head. “I’m out.” 

“What do you mean? You’re out?” Frankie asked.

“I mean, I can’t do this anymore! We’ve been going after the Trust for a year and what’s it gotten us? Nothing! Nothing but death and utter failure!”

“That’s not true and you know it. We’ve made some leeway.”

Will scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Please. Ollerman’s still out there, Frankie. Despite our best effort, he’s still out there and now a 25-year-old woman is dead.”

“She was an agent.” Frankie reasoned. “She knew the risks.”

“She was 25 years old, Frankie!” Will yelled. “She was a kid!” He took a breath, ran his fingers through his hair and continued, a little more calmly though the anger still showed in his face. “It was one thing when it was Emma—she was an experienced field agent. But Camille was *just * out of Quantico. The first assignment she had was being on our team! Now she’s gone.” 

“This wasn’t your fault, Will. The Trust has a big reach.”

“So, then what’s the point?” he asked, in frustration.

Bewildered, Frankie asked. “What are we saying? We should just give up and let them win?”

Will sighed. “No, of course not. They should be brought down.” He shook his head and added, “I just don’t think I’m the man to do it. I can’t.”

“Will! Stop!” Frankie yelled as Will walked off.

Will turned around swiftly. “No! You’re not going to change my mind about this!” Putting his arms out in surrender, he added. “It’s over. I’m done.”

Frankie watched in stunned silence as Will turned and walked out.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***  
Frankie parked her rental car on the street near Will’s parent’s house. She had hoped that he’d come back to the team after a few days. She’d hoped that Susan would be able to help Will but every time Susan called to talk, Will just shut it down. By the end of the week, Will stopped returning everyone’s calls altogether. So, knowing that he went back home to Indiana (because it’s Will; of course, that’s where he’d go), Frankie decided to go to him. Now, looking at Will’s childhood home. It was how she always imagined it—front porch with flowers underneath, a white picket fence, car in the driveway with the hood open. It was like one of those old fashion Norman Rockwell paintings. 

Taking a deep breath, Frankie walked up the drive-way and called out to the figure behind the hood. “Will? Is that you?”

“Not last I checked.” The man called out as he stepped aside. 

Frankie looked at the man—tall, white hair, mustache, kind eyes. He could only be one person. “You’re Will’s dad, aren’t you?”

“That’s what they tell me.” he said, good naturedly. Putting out his hand, he introduced himself, “Richard Chase. You must be Will’s partner, Frankie.”

Frankie shook his hand and, with a puzzled look on her face, asked, “How did you know?”

Smiling he said, “I’m sure you’re aware, my son is quite the shutterbug.”

Frankie smiled broadly as she remembered Will’s affinity for taking/sending selfies.

“In fact,” Mr. Chase continued, “I remember, the first picture I saw you in. My son thought it’d be funny to tell us he’d gotten married and had a baby.”

Frankie glanced down and smiled. “Sorry about that, Mr. Chase.”

He waved her off. “Call me Richard. To be honest, I didn’t have a problem. His mother—well, you should’ve heard the choice words she had for him.”

“I know. Will told me about it. He felt bad after that.”

Richard shook his head. “Don’t worry. His mother couldn’t stay mad at someone if she tried.” Grabbing a rag to wipe his hands, he added. “Where are my manners? You came here to see my son, not talk to some old grease monkey.”

As Frankie followed him to the house, she decided that she really liked Will’s father. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

As his father worked on his car, Will sat in the living room reading a magazine. Or at least trying to since the guilt of what happened to Camille made concentrating difficult. Suddenly, his mother sat down next to him. 

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re here?” his mother asked.

“You know I can’t tell you about my work.”

“I didn’t ask about your work. I asked why you’re here.”

Will sighed and put the magazine down. “You don’t know what it’s like. You work towards something, you put all your energy into trying to bring someone to justice and no matter what you do, it’s an utter failure.”

“I know what that’s like.” She responded. “I was a teacher, remember? Believe me, those kids weren’t all hanging on my every word. Some years, it seemed as if the whole class was against me. Oh, and some of those parents? Pft.” she shook her head and let out a breath.

“Then why did you stay?”

“Because,” she began, as she leaned over and put her arm around his shoulders. “for every five kids who thought making paper airplanes was more important than listening to me, there might be one who was genuinely interested in what I was teaching. Plus, the real reward was that one student—and they came around occasionally—who wasn’t doing very well but truly wanted to improve. That’s what I latched onto—the successes, not the failures.”

“Concentrate on the successes.” Will said, quietly. Turning to his mother, he asked “But what if the failures are so huge? What if it feels like no matter what you do, you’re hitting a brick wall?”

His mother shrugged. “Then you try harder. And yes, you may fail. You may fail spectacularly. But you have to push through it, because giving up...” she paused to find the words. “Well, for me, that was never an option.”

“Pushing through it.” Will thought to himself. That was one of his favorite pep talks. He remembered giving it to countless new agents. Heck, he remembered giving it to Standish on more than one occasion. Suddenly, he heard the front door open and saw his father walk in.

“Look who I found outside.” his father announced. 

Will stood up in shock when he saw Frankie walk in. “What are you doing here?” 

“Will! What kind of question is that?!” his mother said as she jumped up to greet Frankie. “Here, let me take your coat.” 

“So, Will,” his father spoke up, “do you plan on introducing your mother to this fine lady anytime soon?”

His father’s words snapped Will out of his reverie. “Oh, sorry. Frankie, this is my mom, Lori Chase. Mom, this is my partner, Frankie Trowbridge.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Chase.” Frankie said with a smile.

“Oh, please. Mrs. Chase was my mother-in-law. Call me Lori.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

After offering Frankie something to eat or drink, Lori and Richard left the room so Will and Frankie could talk alone.

“What’s going on?” Will asked with concern. “Did something happen?”

“Yes.” Frankie answered. “My partner quit.”

“I already got the “quitting is not an option” speech from my mom, thank you.”

“Will…” Frankie began.

“I’m tired of losing, Frankie.” he interrupted. “I’m sorry. Maybe it makes me a quitter but I’m tired. Tina kills Emma, Standish gets stabbed, Camille’s killed.” He chuckled humorlessly. “You know the best part—we had him. He was in jail and *I* let him go. So, everything that happened after is entirely on me.”

“You let him go to save my life, Will.” Frankie reminded him. ‘Are you saying you regret that?”

That thought hadn’t occurred to Will and he shook his head. “No! Of course not. It’s just—I-I keep wondering if I could’ve done something differently. Maybe I could’ve saved you without releasing him. Maybe there was some way to capture Ollerman in Prague. Maybe I should’ve told Camille to be more careful…”

“And maybe if I’d gone to that concert, I’d be married to a Backstreet Boy right now.” Frankie interrupted. “You can’t change the past, Will. You know that. Besides, every decision you made regarding Ollerman was the right call. That goes for how you trained Camille as well.”

Will stood in silence for a brief moment, then replied. “Look, I’m touched you came all the way here to see me and if you want to spend some time and visit, that’s great. But you’re not changing my mind. “

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

“Need something, sweetheart?” Frankie heard. Looking up at Will’s father, she replied. “Some way to get through to your son?”

Richard chuckled and sat down on the step next to her on the porch step. “Being stubborn, is he?”

Frankie rolled her eyes. “Yes, which is usually my style. He’s supposed to be the grounded one.”

“Losing someone in your unit’s not easy. I learned that in ‘Nam.”

Frankie looked at him in surprise. “Will told you what happened?”

“He didn’t need to. The way he’s acting right now. All that moping around. That’s exactly what he was like when his brother died.”

“Will talks about his brother every once and a while. He really loved him.”

Richard smiled. “Will idolized him. Followed Kevin everywhere growing up. He wanted to be just like him.” With a solemn expression, he added. “Then we lost Kevin and—that first year--that boy (he pointed back to the house where Will was) was so angry.”

“Sounds like me when my parents died.” Frankie admitted. Off his questioning look, she added. “They died in, uh, uh, an accident when I was teenager.”

Richard looked at her. He could tell there was more to that story. However, he was in the military long enough to know that some stories you weren’t ready to tell.

“How’d he get through it?” Frankie asked.

Richard shrugged. “We just showed him that life had to go on. Commitments still had to be honored, bills still had to be paid, traditions still had to be followed.”

“And that worked?” she asked.

“Not at first. But my wife is one hell of a talker. You’re discouraged; she will pick you right up.”

“Sounds like Will.” Frankie noted.

“Now, me. I’m more of a doer. There were things that I used to do with Kevin-- like rotate my tires. Well, I started asking Will to help me. I figured if he was doing things that Kevin used to do, well, maybe Kevin wouldn’t seem so far away.”

Frankie marveled at what she’d just heard. From the moment she met Will, she imagined he’d had this perfect, idyllic childhood. Of course, she knew that his brother died but she always assumed Will got through it in his usual optimistic fashion. To find out that Will was this sullen teenager grieving for his brother. That that angry boy could push through his grief to become the man Will is now just proved how strong he really was. “So, how do I help him?” she asked Richard.

“I don’t know.” he admitted. “But you being here—that’s a good thing.”

A few hours later, Frankie was at the one place she never dreamt she’d be a year earlier – at the Chase family dining room with Will and his parents. 

“Sweetheart, you’re over there by Will.” Richard told Frankie as he directed her where to sit.

“Richard!” Lori interjected. “Don’t call her sweetheart! Women don’t like that nowadays! “

Frankie broke out in a grin. “I don’t mind, really.” 

As her husband mentioned, Lori was a talker. Just like Will when they first became partners, Lori peppered Frankie with questions about her past. With no trepidation, Frankie was talking about her childhood in Connecticut and where she went to college. She even gave them a highly sanitized version of how she joined the CIA. Strangely, there were no questions about her parents. Frankie suspected she had Richard to thank for that. He must’ve informed her that it was a touchy subject for Frankie. Frankie decided she really liked Will’s parents-- they were exactly how she always imagined them to be.

Though Frankie intended to stay at a hotel, the Chases insisted that she stay in Will’s sister’s old room. Later, as Frankie laid in bed, she wondered how she was going to get through to Will. After all—motivating people was his strong suit, not hers. Of course, Susan was the best but Will refused to listen to her. So, if Susan couldn’t get through to Will, what hope did Frankie have?

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

The next morning, Frankie stood alone in the gym she’d rented out wondering if her gambit was going to work. Will was all about talking through his feelings but, for some reason, he refused to do that now. It didn’t take a genius to know Will was holding on to all his anger and guilt. However, those emotions had to be released or they’d eat Will up. Like Will’s father, Frankie was more of a doer than a talker and she really hoped her idea worked. Suddenly, Will walked in and asked, all business, “What’s up?” 

Frankie pointed to some protection gear, “Put those on. We’re going do some sparring.”

“I’m not in the mood, Frankie.” Will declared as he turned to go.

“I don’t care.” Frankie insisted. “Unlike some people, I still have a team to lead and I need to keep sharp.”

“I don’t think you’re going to lose your skills that quickly.”

“Just do it for me, Will, okay? I’ve been in Sleepytown here for a few days. I need to let off some steam. Unless… you’re afraid you lost some of your skills? You’ve been on leave for a week now. That’s probably like a month for someone your age.”

A flash of annoyance passed Will’s face as he grabbed the head gear. “Fine.”

The sparring match started out pretty uneventful. One would strike and the other would parry. It was a standard match so Frankie decided she had to up the ante. 

“Come on, Will! You’re barely trying.” Suddenly, she stopped. “I have an idea. Pretend I’m Ollerman.”

Will looked at her in confusion. “What? No, I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, Will!” she goaded and she circled him. “I need a real work out.” As she stood in front of him, she added., with vehemence “I’m Alex Ollerman. Director of the FBI. *Your* boss. That oath you took—I spit on it. Because I don’t give a damned about the FBI. I don’t care about trust, justice, and truth. No, all I care about is money and power and I will do *anything* to get it.” Seeing that Will was started to get angry; she pressed on. “He thinks you’re pathetic, Will. Some Dudley Do right who can’t even get a handle on his emotions. Who lives in this fantasy land where the good guys always do the right thing and justice always prevails; a joke throwing around words like duty and honor like they mean something.” Frankie paused and went for the jugular. “You know what he finds most pathetic? That you’re too stupid to know that anyone willing to die for their country is a sap!” 

And there it was! Enraged, Will let out a scream and charged at Frankie. It wasn’t a friendly sparring match anymore. No, it was fast and furious, harkening back to the time they first met. All the rage Will had built up over the past week he unleashed on Frankie. Finally, after several minutes of intense fighting, Will got the upper hand and threw Frankie to the floor. Still in a murderous rage, he was all set to punch Frankie square in the face when she yelled. “WILL! STOP!” 

Shaken from his trance, Will blinked and appeared to recognize Frankie for the first time. “Frankie?” 

“It’s okay, Will.” she said, quietly. “It’s okay.”

At that point, Will sat back, took a few deep breaths and began to cry. Frankie sat up, removed her head gear, then went over to Will. After removing his head piece, she took his head in her arms and let him cry on her shoulder. “I hate him.” Will said through his tears. “I hate him so much.”

“I know.” Frankie reassured him as she stroked his face. “We all do.”

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

That night, Frankie and Will were back in New York.

“Listen, Frankie.” Will began when they got to the door of his apartment. “I need to thank you for...”

“It’s okay.” She interrupted.

“No. Let me finish. I was ready to give up. To just throw in the towel and chuck my career altogether. But you didn’t let me. Even when I pushed everyone away, you came and saved me.” With a small smile, he added. “I will always be grateful for that.” After saying goodbye, he turned to enter his place when she called out. Will, wait!” 

Frankie looked at Will for a moment, contemplating what to do. Their relationship had always been complicated. They had a connection from the beginning but, because they were partners, Frankie was afraid for them to act on it. However, she discovered a whole new side to Will in Indiana. Learning of Will’s anger at his brother’s death and how he was able to move past it. She had a whole new respect for Will. Apparently, he was a lot stronger than she was. So, summoning up her courage, Frankie did what she never thought she would—she kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> This story wouldn't have come about without various people on Twitter bemoaning the fact that we'll never see Will's parents. To be honest, I never thought we would regardless because I couldn't think of a logical way the show would work that in. However, I decided to try to come up with one and this was the result.
> 
> Will's mother being a teacher came from Inferno by Fiery Tribune. His father having been in the military was from Inferno as well.
> 
> Will's mom telling his dad not to call Frankie "sweetheart" and her response was inspired by an exchange in the comment section of Inferno. (credit goes to Fiery Tribune and KashmirLZ)


End file.
